


Blood of The Lamb

by drippingwithsin



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Animal Death, Drugged Sex, F/F, Forced Unions, Magical Pregnancy, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic, magical penis, mentions of past incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 13:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippingwithsin/pseuds/drippingwithsin
Summary: Freshly saved from hell, Marie decides to finally right the wrong she dealt to the current Supreme.





	Blood of The Lamb

There is something about a moonless night which brings out the primal fear in anyone's sane mind. Maybe, it’s simply the all-consuming darkness ravenously devouring everything in sight or perhaps, it was the unknown that's hidden within the shadows that makes us weary. No one was/is for certain but all have a level of fear of it.  
  
An owl hoots from his hunting perch high in the gnarled limbs of an enormous oak. A normally silent bird, he only makes a sound if frightened or a female happens to catch his eye but tonight something in the distance disturbs his peace.

Something darker than the night itself and far more dangerous. He instinctively presses himself further into the bark, wisely wanting no part of it.

The scent of burning wood is thick in the air, as is the whitish smoke billowing from an enormous bonfire. There are strangers here tonight, their hypothesizing chanting building, molding, lifting, into a haunting melody.

Clad in traditional African ceremonial wear, they stomp to an unknown beat syncing in with the ancient singing and falling into step with the restless flames flickering towards the heavens. They go around and around the ravenous element in a mesmerizing dance between man and nature.

Suddenly, however, there’s an abrupt shift in the atmosphere and all movements simultaneously cease. They turn in unison all eyes trained on the same area and they wait with bated breath.

Two bare-chested dark-skinned men materialize from the night carrying a Caucasian woman between them.

Cordelia Goode, daughter of the late Supreme and now the current holder of the title sways a bit in their grasp. Her shapely body cloaked in a pristine white robe, golden waves cascading down creamy shoulders. She appears as a sacrifice. A lamb taking to slaughter.

After Mallory confessed to Cordelia about the events from the other timeline the Supreme becomes determined to rectify each and every one of them; Including Marie Laveau. Who was to become vital in keeping a far more evil Voodoo Queen from taking over.

The negotiation for Marie’s soul turns out to be entirely brief and surprisingly easy. Apparently, Papa Laba had his own orders. And from someone much higher than hell.

_A couple of weeks after saving the Marie, she receives a summons in the form of a seemingly random African American boy on the street._

_She goes alone and against the wishes of the entire coven-even Queenie’s. “At least let me go. No tellin’ what that bitch will do to you if you by yoself.”_

_“I’ll be fine. I am the supreme afterall.” She brushes it off. Now thinking maybe they were right. Because this was looking more and more like_ _déjà_ _vu._

_Maire casually sits on her throne of bones. Elbows resting on a couple of massive alligator skulls. Dark eyes glinting in the candlelight. She appears every once the queen she is. “I called you here not only to thank you for saving me from hell but to offer you my services.”_

_Cordelia’s face relaxes into a warm smile.“You don’t have to do anything, Marie. Like I said before you didn’t have the heart for torture.”_

_Marie waves her hand, looking everywhere but the Supreme. Shame. She radiated shame. But why? “Bout a year ago I denied you something jus’ out of pettiness. Now I see I was wrong. So I want to help you”_

_Five years ago Cordelia would have rejoiced. Finally, she'll be getting what she’s always wanted. Now, though, things have changed. SHE has changed. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I-”_

_“Please, your kind has been far too humble to mine I need to make.. amends.” Maire pleads and Cordelia cannot help but think it sounds strangely odd coming from plump lips._

_“But how? I don’t, I mean...”_

_“Have any baby gravy?”_

_Cordelia blushes profusely, biting her bottom lip._

_A snort of amusement. “Oh gurl, you know as well as I do we don’t need no man to get pregnant.”_

_Yes, that was true._

_Once a common practice among covens to preserve the bloodlines and further their power, same-sex procreation has since dwindled to nearly nonexistent in recent times. One major reason, of course, being gender equality, but also because of it being the root of a much darker part of history._

_Arranged unions. Much like arranged marriages which were contracted based on statuses and privilege unions within witching society were majorly based on magical prowess. The most powerful were paired with their equal or as close to equal as possible._

_Unlike the normal world, however, the coven as a whole decided the match, not the parents. Using a complicated method of ancient magicks and physics the intended’s names appear written in the blood of a lamb along the bellies of those conducting the spell._

_Unfortunately, as such the case throughout history, this inevitably led to some forced bondships-regardless of preference and in some cases kinship._

_In fact, the reigning Supreme who eventually outlawed the practice did so when it was eventually uncovered her other mother was also her aunt._

_A law Cordelia thanks God for every day since given her status as the Supreme’s only daughter and long-festering powers her own match would have doubtlessly been a toss-up between (shudders)Auntie Myrtle and (vomits)Fiona._

_“Even if I agreed I still have no other partner,” Cordelia admits with a lingering sadness, thinking of honeyed curls and a thick Bayou accent._

_“Oh, don’tcha worry that pretty little head of yours. I think I’ve found a solution.”_

_Cordelia feels a shiver go down her back. And if she was truthful with herself she’ll admit it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant one. “Wait. What exactly are you suggesting here?_

_“What I’m tryin’ ta say is dat maybe it’s finally time for our people to put away our differences.” Seemingly to further her point, Marie’s eyes finally leave Cordelia’s and trails a blazing path  down her body._

_The suggestion then becomes all too clear. Marie wants them to unite. Not just on paper. Or some silly little truce. But by skinship. By blood._

_Cordelia’s face twists in horrid disbelief. “You can not be serious. A union between a witch and shaman has never been documented. The child; even if I was even able to carry it might be an abomination.”_

_“It might,” Marie admits. At nearly three hundred years old subtly and pure optimism are nothing more than a distant memory. “But then again it might not be..so do we have a deal?”_

_“I-” Cordelia hesitates. Did she really want to do this? Lie with her sworn enemy to possibly create a doomed child? Part of her was screaming, “No!” But the other, the one who’s longed for so long just to be a mother was shouting the opposite._

_Before Cordelia can come up with a decision, however, Marie is there, towering over her so close she can smell the strong scent of magnolias and incense wafting from her body. When had she moved? She was just over there? How?_

_Strong dark magic caresses against Cordelia’s white. The power immense and nearly overpowering nearly bringing the young Supreme to her knees. Her eyes cloud and mouth falls open._

_It feels- so good._

_Marie grins knowingly and leans in close, lips barely brushing against the shell of Cordelia's ear. “You feel it, don’tcha? My power. It sings to yours.” The voodoo queen descends on her neck pressing a gentle kiss, grinning against the pale skin when she feels a shudder. “Begging to be combined.”_

_Teeth scrape at Cordelia's throat, making instinctively her submit and moan. “Ta be-made into a childe.”_

_The Supreme puts her hands on Marie’s biceps to push the voodoo queen away but finds herself groaning when she feels hard muscles flex underneath her fingertips. Jesus. “Wait. Wait. I-I need some time to think about this.”_

_Marie pulls away and Cordelia chooses to ignore the pang of disappointment she feels. “Well, alright then. Jus, lemme know. Mah doors is always open, lil' Supreme.”_

_It only took Cordelia another two weeks to decide._

**The two men hand her over to the priestesses.**

One of them shoves a silver goblet to Cordelia’s mouth. The sweet bitter liquid washes over her tongue, shearing a path down only to coat her stomach in a tingling heat. Sputtering and coughing, the unknown substance burns her nose bringing forth tears to chocolate eyes. Her body unconsciously rejecting the substance.

But it’s too late, too much has invaded her system.

Cordelia feels dizzy now, and warm. So warm. The earth is spinning out of control on its axis but she just grins goofily. Suddenly she is ten years old again, carefree and alive, riding a tilt a whirl at the local fair.

The goblet presses against her lips once more.

The Supreme’s head lolls backward taking an enormous gulp of the intoxicating liquid willingly.

The hands morph into a thousand fingers, stroking, caressing her from every angle. A drunken moan escaped her lips. She can not think, the tunic is sticking to her like paste. It’s too tight. Too hot. It must come off. Cordelia struggles a bit forgetting for a moment her arms are being restrained.

"She’s ready."

There’s a tug on her arm and a pushing force against her back, leading to the fire. The flames are so close now she can feel their heat upon her face and neck. Are they going to throw her in? She would willingly go. It is so beautiful this bright light warming her body like a hot spring.

"Lay her down."

And Cordelia's tilting backward until there is a cold dampness seeping into the thin material along with her back and onto the pale skin underneath causing goose-flesh to prickle every inch of her. She stared upward at the heavens memorized for a moment by the endless expanse of twinkling stars gazing down at her.

The chanting devolves into a low humming, and Cordelia glances around, trying fruitlessly to will her sluggish pupils to focus on what is happening. Only to become distracted by the hem of her tunic being pushed to each side of her person, exposing her naked form to the frigid night air and the playful heat of the flames.

Above her, one of the figures holds some sort of animal. Its longish neck stretched upwards staring where she once was and something about that fact brings a sense of kinship to her.

A shriek in the distance reaches her ears and the ritual song and dance once again picks up until the ground is nearly vibrating from the impact of numerous feet stomping. She closes her eyes, smiling a small pleased smile, loving the feel of the trembling earth against her back.

The animal baas in agony which rapidly turns sickeningly gargled as the knife slips deeper. Hot crimson fluid drips from the cut landing into a pool upon the taut muscles of her stomach.

It’s all too much.

Gasping, Cordelia opens her eyes, writhing like a feline in heat, her sensory system free-falling into turmoil. Her hips thrust upward as if meeting an invisible lover causing the metallic scented liquid to pour steadily upon her core, hitting the pulsating bundle of nerves nestled in between flushed lower lips, and mixing with the fluids there.

Intoxicated on wine, drugs, and lust, Cordelia slides her hands languidly all over her body. Spreading the sticky mess over every inch. Moaning the entire time. Each touch pleasurable but frustratingly not enough.

Becoming desperate, she arches her back into hunter's bow begging for any contact.

And in the next moment, her plea seems to be answered when a warm body settles over the top of hers. The chanting was nearly deafening now. Her legs are spread far apart by firm but gentle hands, exposing the hidden place between them.

Soon, something hard pushes within, into her redden core. A burn felt, yes, but the pleasure was strengthening and soon that's all she could feel. She moans low and deep, keeping her eyes shut tight, the multicolored starbursts exploding behind her eyelids seemingly following the rhythm of the unknown motion.

Eyelids dare slip open.

There, illuminated by the glowing flames, the queen of voodoo sits upon bended knee. Her head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, full lips agape, and braids flowing over sculpted shoulders.

She was a Goddess.

A living breathing Goddess.

Ruthlessly quarreling against a sea of endless pleasure, glazed doe eyes blink against the darkness to get a better look only to be captivated by the rapid rise and fall of full round breasts.

That's when she did the only thing she could do. Moan.

Marie jerks forward at the sound, and Cordelia feels shock waves of pleasure crash through her.

It’s then the Supreme finally realizes that they are connected.

The woman's bit of hard was deep within her bit of soft pounding to a beat as old as time itself. A warning bell laudingly rings deep in her fuzzy mind. Something isn’t right.

But everything feels so good- so wrongly right.

Her hips thrust back even harder to meet the delicious friction that she so desperately needed. They move as one and the Supreme can feel herself edging ever closer to the abyss with each passing second.

Soon magic begins to crackle within the night air, adding fuel to the ritual.

Around the pair, the others sway bonelessly, their eyes rolling back, breaths picking up; they all felt the pleasure deep inside. Their heads toss back, and the chanting becomes breathless.

The time is nearing, one by one they began to all fall to the ground writhing.

Marie picks up the pace and Cordelia can feel a coil within her abdomen wind tighter and tighter with each and every thrust. The tingling strengthens on the left side of her core and the backs of her eyeballs. Her toes curl as her hands claw fruitlessly at the earth.

She feels the climax climb to the tip-top peak then finally it crashes. Her inner muscles clench and unclench around the member still sliding in and out of her at a rapid pace. The thrusts become shaky, uneven and soon a warmth filled the girl to the brim.

Moans joined theirs' filling the air with the sound of primal ecstasy. The magic pulsates feeding greedily from their energies and powers, it cracked like a whip within the sky.

It was done.

Heavy with exhaustion, Cordelia’s eyelids slip close, going willingly into Morpheus' embrace.

Hovering above, Marie remains in place. Her full breasts heaving, sweat glistening off of her naked body in the firelight. She smiles and glances down at the smaller form beneath her.

The grin falls and the breathing immediately slows, she leans down, using one arm to hold her weight and caresses Cordelia's cheek with the other.

"That’s it, ma chérie. You go on an’ rest now.”

The hand slides from Cordelia's face onto her elegant neck, down in between the valley of two full breasts only to come to a halt on her lower abdomen.

Marie’s thumb strokes the exposed skin there in gentle swipes exposing strips of pale skin beneath a thick drying layer of crusting blood. "You gon need it."

### END?

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of want to do another chapter on this mainly because I think Marie and Cordelia would make a gorgeous child and I desperately want to write about her.


End file.
